La Vie des Vertus
by Paper Pearls
Summary: Seven drabbles, each dealing with one of the seven virtues.
1. Chastity

**This is my response to Day 27 of **_**Sinistra Black's**_** "Sheherazad" challenge, and my prompts were the seven virtues- less interesting than the sins, but more challenging, which is the point.**

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Beyond her beauty and natural charm, Gabrielle Delacour had little in common with her older sister, Fleur. From years of watching her sister, her elegant, graceful sister, plucking hearts from men's bodies as quickly and as naturally as though they were apples from trees, Gabrielle knew instinctively that she too could do it; she could use her blue of her eyes, her maddeningly flawless skin, her slender little hands and the slope of her shoulders to have people fall for her. But she didn't want to.

There was nothing wrong with flirting or teasing, or even the way in which Fleur daringly employed these techniques. At times Gabrielle was tempted to use this mysterious power of hers that had grown increasingly potent as she had developed and matured. Initially she had wanted to imitate her sister- she was every bit as beautiful as Fleur- and that had been fun, sashaying through the halls of Beauxbatons with every eye upon her. However, when the opportunity arose to dig a hook into a heart, Gabrielle found that the appeal vanished.

_One sweaty hand encompassed hers, the other resting upon her waist, its heat uncomfortable. He was far from perfect, but after sixteen years of living with herself, Gabrielle wanted to try something different. Bumbling and awkward, Dennis Creevey licked his lips and smiled in a way that reminded her of a lap dog._

"_You're r-really lovely, Gabrielle. Really lovely." Hearing him stumble over his words in awe frightened Gabrielle. Dennis leant closer, but she turned away so that his lips met with the soft skin of her cheek. It was too much, this magnetism of hers, and Gabrielle didn't feel that she should use it in case she ended up abusing it. And stinging along a wide eyed, trembling boy like Dennis would certainly be abusing it. _

Smiling absently at the memory, Gabrielle continued brushing her hair until she was confident that it was without a tangle. Her appeal was undeniable, even in a simple sundress. There was a certain satisfaction, Gabrielle found, in being beautiful for herself rather than others; it gave life a peaceful balance that Fleur- in her frantic, frenzied world- would never know. Tucking a flower into her hair, Gabrielle stood and was content that she would make the most of the day.

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	2. Temperance

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Luna Lovegood was not, as so many mistakenly assumed, ignorant of the flaws in human nature. She understood perfectly that it was a mixture of cruelty and jealousy that caused her to be bullied so frequently for her eccentricities, but she did not blame her tormentors. In fact, she felt rather sorry that there was not enough insight between them, behind those pairs of dull, piggy eyes, to appreciate the beauty of the world.

She twirled on the spot, arms spread wide to embrace the magnificent Scottish scenery, and continued on her way back to the castle now that Herbology was finished. Deciding that she would prefer to feel the grass against her bare feet, Luna stopped once more to remove her shoes. Something large and heavy slammed into her side and she fell to the ground. When she attempted to move herself, Luna's wrist was ensconced in a vice of pain.

"Loony Lovegood's too stupid to walk properly." Goyle guffawed, taking animalistic pleasure in what he had done. His bulky body seemed almost to blot out the sun.

"Maybe Loony's too stupid to speak." Crabbe watched as Luna flexed her wrist, tentatively checking to see that it hadn't been broken. Still she did not respond as she caught sight of her wand. Luna considered how it would feel to give the two boys a taste of their own medicine- it would be perfectly justified considering the number of times they had attacked her. With lightning reflexes, Luna grasped her wand and was about to point it when she saw a ladybird climbing it.

"_Whenever you feel a little overwhelmed, there is always the simple pleasure of nature." The voice was as warm and smooth as honey. It belonged to a faint smell of lavender and the feel of a gentle hand against her forehead._

There weren't too many memories of her mother, and Luna was surprised by this one surfacing. She wondered if Crabbe or Goyle's mothers had shown them how nice it felt to be in the sun. Luna remained seated and cupped her hand protectively around the ladybird.

"This is boring." Goyle grunted in response, and the duo retreated. As tempted as she was to hex them, Luna knew that such actions didn't belong in this tranquil setting, or anywhere for that matter. She stood, shoes lying forgotten on the grass, and carried the little insect to a nearby flower bed.

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	3. Charity

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It was not the first war Minerva McGonagall had seen, but she certainly hoped that it would be last. She had witnessed atrocities that no human being should be capable of committing, and the gross visions haunted her. With a great deal of relief, Minerva stepped into the kitchen of the head quarters and sank into a comfortable chair- _she was not as young as she had been during the first war_. The thought of her youthful self made Minerva give a wry smile.

Minerva waved her wand expertly and watched as kitchen utensils set about making a pot of tea. It would take the edge from the chill in her bones before she went to bed, and the familiarity of the routine would occasionally provide enough comfort to keep nightmares at bay. She watched as the teapot soared towards her, noting for the first time the form of a young woman slumped across the table. She stood, the beverage fading from her thoughts.

"Miss Granger?" As gently as she could, Minerva smoothed back the hair covering the younger witch's face. "Hermione, wake up."

Hermione wriggled and opened her eyes, giving a yawn as she moved into an upright position. She flushed as she straightened the now crumpled documents that had served as a pillow, realising that the woman who had been her favourite professor had caught her, quite literally, sleeping on the job.

"Professor McGonagall..." She yawned again, covering her mouth with ink stained fingers. "Thank you for waking me up- I have so much work to finish in researching this." Her shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly despite her brisk tone.

"Your contribution to the war effort has been exemplary, Hermione, but if you overwork yourself, then you'll be little use to anyone." Minerva patted the girl's back before fetching the pot of tea and sitting down beside her. "Do you see anyone else still awake at this hour?"

"I see you." Hermione turned to face the fire, which cast flickering shadows over her face that made her look older than her seventeen years. Tears filled her eyes, and Minerva knew that Hermione saw the same dreadful things that she did. "This isn't like school- I can't just revise tomorrow, because we're running out of time. I need to learn the layout to this building and establish where the prisoners are being kept, otherwise people will die."

"You're right; it does need finished, so go to bed and allow me to complete this task. Your notes were always perfectly detailed, so I doubt I'll have any trouble picking up from where you have left off." They shared a smile, recalling easier times.

"But you need to sleep too; you've been on duty for two days." The concern in Hermione's brown eyes was touching.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Miss Granger." Hearing the laughter escaping her former pupil's mouth- light and carefree, as the laughter of the young should be- Minerva was glad to have made the offer.

"Thank you... Minerva." Before she could respond, Hermione was gone. That buoyant laughter made Minerva hope that her protégé's dreams would be untroubled. It seemed unlikely, but she had done all that she could to lighten Hermione's burden. Sipping her tea, Minerva began to work.

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